


Not Just Another Empty Promise

by JennySmithInTARDIS



Series: Tumblr Crush Awards [3]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fireworks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Illnesses, Light Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 02:45:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8515522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennySmithInTARDIS/pseuds/JennySmithInTARDIS
Summary: In a confused state the Doctor mistakes fireworks for the sounds of war. Panicked and suffering from the flu, as well as flashbacks, he locks himself and Rose in their wardrobe.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For tinyconfusion over on tumblr, as part of my Tumblr Crush Awards. <3
> 
> Also un-beta'd :)

Fireworks raged over London as the Doctor lay in bed. He had been living on Pete’s World for a little over a year near. This was the first time he had ever suffered a flu. It seemed that humans were much more prone to such inconveniences. The Doctor was out for the count, wrapped up in a bundle of covers. He snored lightly, used tissues scattered haphazardly around his snoozing form and bedside table. Rose sat up on her side of the bed as she read a book. She ran her left hand through the Doctor’s hair, occasionally letting it rest on his forehead to check his temperature. All of a sudden a rather obnoxiously loud firework let out a monstrous bang. Car alarms in the street went off. Then there was another explosion, and another. It was obviously one of those big boxes you could get, with hundreds of rounds all-in-one. The Doctor’s eyes flew open as he threw himself out of bed. He stood, frantically looking about the room. 

Rose dropped her book, filled with concern for her husband. “Doctor?” 

The Doctor looked crazed, like a wild animal, as he jumped onto the bed. He ran across it, took Rose’s hand in his as he landed on the floor - on the other side, with a thump - and dragged her up from the bed to follow him. 

“Rose,” he practically growled. 

He came to their large built-in-wardrobe, Rose right behind him. The Doctor yanked the door open so fiercely that she was sure it would come off the hinges. 

“Doctor, what--” Rose was cut off as the Doctor swung her around, pushed her into the closet, following closely behind, then slammed the door shut behind them. 

 

The pair stood in silence, breathing heavily. The Doctor had Rose backed up against the wall. Slowly he came to stand next to her, then slid down the back wall, knocking several of his work shirts down with him, as he slumped to the floor. 

“Safe,” he panted. “Need to keep you safe.” 

As Rose looked at the Doctor’s hollow eyes, she knew what was replaying in his mind. He had that haunted look that rarely took over his face these days. Yet when it did, it only meant one thing. The war. And honestly, after going through traumatic experience, after traumatic experience, was it any wonder that there were to be nights like these? Especially with the Doctor in a state of sleepy and medicated confusion. 

 

Rose sank down to her knees. It was hard to embrace the Doctor in such a position, so instead she gently rested her hand on the side of his face, trying to encourage him to look at at her. 

“Doctor, love?... s’only some fireworks, sweetheart. We’re safe. I promise you, we are completely safe.”  

There was another loud explosion, then the sizzling sound that accompanied the last sparkles to flash through the sky. The Doctor let out a loud wail and threw his head into his hands. He began tugging at strands of his hair till his knuckles turned white. Rose made comforting shushing noises while she rubbed his back, worried he’d end up ripping his hair out all together. She wanted to stick her head out the window and shout at the people letting them off to “pack it in already.” However she held it together. She had to remain calm, cool and collected. For the Doctor.  _ Her  _ Doctor. 

 

After a few moments Rose realised the Doctor wouldn't snap out of it, not with the commotions of the fireworks still setting him off every minute or so. She slowly opened the wardrobe door and reached for her coat, which lay strewn about the floor, not too far from where they sat in the bottom of the wardrobe. She tugged it inside, shut the door again and began rummaging through her pockets. She finally came across her iPod and earphones. She brought up her playlist of relaxing music and hit play before popping each earbud delicately into the Doctor's ears. Already this seemed to release some tension from his shoulders. She guided him, coaxing him to lay down in the foetal position, his head rested in her lap. Rose played with the Doctor’s hair, trying to sooth him. She then continued to search her coat pockets with her spare hand, until she came across what she had been searching for - some tissue. She gently removed two sheets of the tissue paper from the packet using her one spare hand and her teeth. She used one sheet to wipe the Doctor’s runny nose, the other for his tears. 

 

They had been in the wardrobe for nearly two hours when the fireworks seemed to have finally died out. The Doctor was back to sleep, snoring quietly, draped in items of clothing to keep him warm. Rose almost felt guilty for waking him, but she knew she couldn't let him stay there all night. 

 

Rose had just crawled into bed when the Doctor called her name, quietly into the darkness of their room. 

“Yeah, Doctor?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

He sounded so…  _ broken _ . Rose rolled over, to pull the Doctor’s back as close against her front as she could manage. 

“S’nothin’ to be sorry for, love,” she reassured. “In sickness and in health, for better and for worse. Remember?” 

“I know, but…” he sighed heavily. “Sometimes I feel so bloody useless. You’re so young and have so much ahead of you. I drag you down. You shouldn't be here babysitting me over some stupid bloody fireworks! You should be out there, enjoying your life.” 

“Hey, who told you I don't enjoy my life? ‘Cause I do, very much, thank you. I love my life. And, I love you. End of discussion, yeah? I’d do anythin’ for you, Doctor. Absolutely anythin’. I’d fly into the middle of a Dalek fleet with the time vortex in my ‘ead, I’d follow you anywhere, I’d jump across the multiverse, I’d wipe your snotty nose, and I’d sit in a wardrobe for two hours; if that’s what it takes to make you happy. You got that?” 

“Loud and clear.” 

“Good.” 

The Doctor moved out of Rose’s hold, so he could twist his body to face her too. They shuffled around so that they could comfortably hold each other. 

“Night,  _ Mrs Tyler _ . I love you,” he whispered into her hair. 

“Nuh-night, Mr Tyler. Love you too.” 

The Doctor made that happy little hum of his in the back of his throat. At the same time Rose smiled, with just a hint of tongue, yet it was hidden in the darkness. 

“You’re probably going to get ill too now,” the Doctor noted. 

“Yeah, well… you’re worth it.” 

  
As Rose slept the Doctor was still awake. He held her hand tight and rubbed his fingers repeatedly over the metal of her wedding ring, to reassure himself and keep in mind that this time he wouldn't lose her. He could have the woman he loved now, and this time they really did have forever. Not just another empty promise. 


End file.
